Drabbles: A collection of what might have been
by Sky Blue Angel
Summary: Over 35 drabbles of what was, what might have been, what could have been and the meaning of it all. Almost all Leon/D and many, many are rather depressing.
1. Chapter 1

Black hair and mismatched eyes, porcelain limbs spread on silken bed sheets

Black hair and mismatched eyes, porcelain limbs spread on silken bed sheets.

Blonde hair and blue eyes, staring down from where he'd crawled across the rumpled blankets.

A smile that isn't a smirk, eyes wide and barely focused.

Grinning wider than ever before, hands slipping higher and higher.

A cry that echoes, arching up and wriggling for friction.

Screaming towards the ceiling, burying his face in the white shoulder.

D doesn't wake up when Leon slips off the bed, pressing his hands against his face. He can doesn't remember the moments, but he knows something is wrong.

"But it's right."


	2. Chapter 2

"D" Through the haze of summer, the name made itself heard

"D" Through the haze of summer, the name made itself heard. Leon's voice was harsh, his finger gripping the handle of his gun. The blood around the corner shone under the sun, smog and smoke mixing into red.

This wasn't how Leon had planned on spending his summer, staring into the barrel of a gun. He couldn't die though, not yet. The pet-shop still awaited him, D within those walls.

And when Leon fell to the bullets, he clung tenaciously to life picturing a pair of mismatched eyes and a tiny smirk.

He woke to the eyes of his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Leon had never heard drums like the ones that pounded in his ears, a symphony of pulsing blood

Leon had never heard drums like the ones that pounded in his ears, a symphony of pulsing blood. He knew he should have been hearing other things, the cries of his fellow officers and the criminal's guttural tone from the building.

The sirens on the ambulance meant nothing to him, the officers piling him into the back. He wished that D was still around. Another plant might have been useful.

When he opened his eyes again, D was swaying to the blood pounding in his ears. The pet shop owner offered Leon his hand.

"Join me, detective."

And he did.


	4. Chapter 4

Leon had spent years searching for the right tattooist, weeks prowling the streets and just watching people walk by so he coul

Leon had spent years searching for the right tattooist, weeks prowling the streets and just watching people walk by so he could look them in the eye. Contacts weren't enough, too subtle. He needed to look just right, too make it impossible to forget.

Raven was the only one willing to even try, though there were a few sticky legal matters Leon had to wave aside. She settled over him with the needles and, hours later, he watched himself blink one eye after the other, gold and violet flashing in the scratched mirror Raven offered him. And then he cried.


	5. Chapter 5

People say that opposites attract, that fire and water may not harm one another

People say that opposites attract, that fire and water may not harm one another. Water cannot be burnt, and fire will not be doused.

People say that fire and water repel. That water attacks the fire, forcing it into submission for its own sake, and that fire burns the water, fighting for freedom.

There are few who understand that there is no single solution. That fire may burn water, and water may douse fire.

D had heard every opinion, seen all the solutions come to light. And the third seemed most agreeable as Leon lay his head on the pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

Chris didn't remember the pet shop once he got into high school

Chris didn't remember the pet shop once he got into high school. He talked about friends and the park and getting drunk once he turned 21.

Leon would ask him sometimes, about the animals and his old friend. All Chris remembered was dogs and cats and weird dreams that he claimed played in silence.

Chris was changing though, each day and each year that Leon watched him. His eyes had always been a beautiful blue, until one day Leon looked closer and saw they didn't match.

Leon kissed Chris, when saw he that. Pressed their lips together until their teeth clinked and promised he'd never let him go again.

D watched from behind Chris's eyes and smiled, knowing his detective would never forgot.


	7. Chapter 7

Chris was going to be a detective for Halloween

Chris was going to be a detective for Halloween. He had a plastic badge and a plastic gun in a holster on his waist.

D had wrapped a trench coat around him, smiling and warning him about alleys. He'd handed Chris a bag and a flashlight before sending him on his way.

After a few houses, Chris heard a bang. He'd looked up and around for fireworks before he saw the staggering figure.

Leon fell at his feet, bleeding through his trench coat. He didn't get up.

Chris was a ghost the next year, even though he didn't go out.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Hated

Leon had always hated taking days off. He hated the feeling that there was some good he should have been doing, some crime he should have been solving.

But it was worse since D had disappeared. Leon holed himself up in the office, ignoring the looks Jill gave him and the way Chris begged him to visit over the phone.

But everyday after work, he would leave in the semi-darkness of city night and make his way to Chinatown.

And in the middle of the night, under the cold streetlights, Leon would stare at the pet shop's doors and cry.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Heat Wave

A heat wave had hit LA. The sun hung high in the sky and the air was choking everyone who dared to stand outside. Not even the shade offered relief from the burning heat and neither did the indoors. With the electricity out, no air-conditioning was working for miles of Leon's office.

That was why Leon found himself flopped out and sweating next to D. He offered a smile to the pet shop owner, trying to think of a case to be solving. But when the awaited question never came, Leon didn't question what happened instead.


	10. Chapter 10

Leon had covered all his mirrors

Leon had covered all his mirrors. Ever since they had cracked, his fists shattering the bleary eyed reflection that gazed back so silently. He didn't care what he looked like anymore. It didn't matter when he stumbled in at 3 am, falling against the walls more out of the effects of exhaustion than alcohol.

Not that he needed mirrors to picture his face. His coworkers painted quite a vivid picture of the circles under his eyes and the way his hair stuck on end as it escaped his ponytail. But Leon didn't care anymore.

Not without D around, he didn't.


	11. Chapter 11

Leon had always thought roses were too expensive, especially when the only ones he saw were being hawked on street corners for

Leon had always thought roses were too expensive, especially when the only ones he saw were being hawked on street corners for 3 a flower. He did his best to stay inside on Valentine's day, breaking off his search. But his car had broken down and it would be hours before another bus showed up.

So he wandered down the streets that led to his apartment, doing his best to ignore the rain. There didn't seem to be any urchins out, no flowers waiting for him. Not that he could understand them as he wandered through Chinatown, doing his best to remember which characters meant which streets.

"A rose, mister?" Her voice was sweet and her eyes were wide. Leon stared at her for a long moment, wondering if he was just hallucinating. But there was a tiny girl standing at his feet, holding up a deep red rose and smiling. ".50, please. For a sweetie."

"I don't have one." Leon started to step around her. Her eyes caused him pause though and he fell to his knees. One hand under her chin and he couldn't look away. Green and purple stared back at him, mismatched eyes under long black bangs.

"For your sweetie, Leon." Her voice was smooth and all Leon could do was kiss her with all the fervor in his body. Their teeth clinked as he moaned with all his might. When he pulled back, he found himself with a rose in his hand and blood dripping into his palm. The thorn were tearing at his skin.

"D." He dropped the rose onto the ground, ignoring the thorns sticking out of his hand. "Fuck you too." There was no malice behind his voice as he sobbed, sitting on the curb and surrounded by signs in Chinese. He never noticed he was sitting in front of an empty pet shop, the stairs too long decrepit for him to recognize.


	12. Chapter 12

It was a scream

It was a scream. Echoing throughout the dark alley and streets that followed. No one could have ignored the screech that followed, had they managed to imagine the scream something false.

Leon was the only cop on the site for an hour, staring at the puddles of blood and entrails. He kicked them out of place as the other sirens sounded from down the street, shivering and turning to face the other officers. They poked and prodded the organs spread across the street, trying to figure out who had died and how.

None of them knew why Leon quit the next day, shaking their hands and walking out. Jill had tried to ask him, begging him to tell her why. All he did was smile a smile that wasn't a smile and turn away again, closing the door behind him.

The police department forgot him slowly, over years and years of normal cases and everyday occurrences. Murders, rapes and robberies erased his image from their minds until their phones rang one night.

The suicide note wasn't a note at all. The traditional police report form lay on Leon's desk, marked up with highlighter and post-it notes covering the messy handwriting that bordered on illegible.

When they got it back to the forensics lab, they discovered exactly what the report contained. Nothing real, no information to go on. Only a few sentences and a few words that didn't mean anything to anyone at the station.

-Suicide. Half-plant, half-man. He didn't go. He really didn't go.-

They sent the report to Chris, keeping a copy in their files. Chris was found a few days later, curled in a ball inside what used to be a petshop deep inside Chinatown. He didn't say a word, staring up at them with eyes filled with tears. The hospital declared him dead on arrival, covering his face with a white blanket.


	13. Chapter 13

Every season changes, turns and shifts to something different

Every season changes, turns and shifts to something different. From cold to warm and back to cold. But as the year begins and ends, the cold comes.

A beginning is cold, unthawed and unknown. A detective and a pet-shop owner, staring into each other's eyes.

Then the middle, warm and gentle. Spring brings peace and joy amidst accusations that never came to flower.

And summer follows quickly, hot and steamy. Everything is a beautiful haze as they move through this season.

But winter comes again, cold and dreary and silent as the night, a detective staring into the cold sky.


	14. Chapter 14

Leon had to stare

Leon had to stare. He had to turn around and stare. Blankly. Anyone passing by would have sworn his eyes had glazed over. His hands were fists at his side, vibrating slightly in the coat.

He'd never been to Chicago before. And the icicle in front of him was a new sight. Long and pointed, jabbing up at him. Some snow had fallen around it, fresh and white. The tip was covered with multi-shaped snowflakes that fell silently to the ground every few moments.

And all Leon could think about as he stared at the image before him was D.


	15. Chapter 15

Leon had told Chris not to go trick or treating

Leon had told Chris not to go trick or treating. He'd warned his little brother that hoodlums were out at full strength, regardless of the holiday's worth. The lecture had been short and to the point, don't go out.

But D had said that Chris could go, shooing him out and asking for a bit of candy when he came back. He smiled and set out a bowl of marzipan on his doorstep.

The detective wouldn't have found the little body if the rabbit hadn't showed him, if the dog hadn't chased the rabbit, if the bat hadn't dive-bombed him.


	16. Chapter 17

The battle between cop and robber was an expertly stepped dance

The battle between cop and robber was an expertly stepped dance. Gun shots set the tempo of the dance, each bullet a note in the symphony.

When they yelled into their megaphones and demanded hostages, Leon heard violins and cellos, battling for dominance.

Each civilian scream was a woodwind, entering and leaving before anyone really noticed it had happened. Clarinets and flutes that never fought back.

The bullet's flight was a crescendo, ending in the climatic splash of blood.

And when Leon awoke in the sterile hospital bed, with D's worried eyes focused on his own, the dance had ended.


	17. Chapter 18

Title: The Detective and The Man

It had never been a hobby for Detective Orcot. He hadn't sat in that room and watched D serve tea and sugary snacks for his own amusement. It had always been about the case at hand, the murder and the solution.

Leon liked to watch. He never took his eyes off D, never wondered why his nails never broke. D was his hobby, his free time and his off days. It was his amusement and his meals, the sugary snacks and tea mixing on his tongue.

When D was gone though, Detective Orcot met Leon, and a new hobby formed.


	18. Chapter 19

"Policemen have hearts like ice

"Policemen have hearts like ice."

Leon had heard that line too many times, staring down juvenile delinquents and their parents. Whether shouted or muttered under their breath, it was always there.

"You must have ice in your veins.

A compliment, handed from one officer to another. Accompanied by a pat on the shoulder and a grin. It was best when hobbling on crutches, reminding Leon that he had to be immortal.

"Your fingers feel like ice."

A newer line. D's voice, whispered into his ear. Warm hands covered Leon's, and all he could do was shiver. The ice was melting.


	19. Chapter 20

It'd been a year since their first kiss

A year ago: their first kiss.

A year ago: the red sunset and blue ocean.

A year ago: Leon was on that roof.

A year ago: Chris wrote that letter to his mother.

A year ago: T-chan tried to blur their reflections.

A year ago: the rain had turned to snow.

A year ago: the last customer had come.

A year ago: Chris had lost his silent mask.

A year ago: night last fell on them alone.

A year ago: second had passed like hours.

A year ago: Leon wept alone.

A year ago: summer had melted popsicles.

A year ago: Leon had waited in the dusty pet shop.

A year ago: Chris counted pennies with T-chan.

A year ago: D offered Leon tea.

A year ago: Leon held his brother.

A year ago: Chris wore a coat and threw snowballs.

A year ago: D and Leon had finished the chase.

A year ago: Chris found his voice and lost his fear.

A year ago: Leon saw D's hair, heard his voice, felt his lips.

A year ago: D made the headlines, blood on his hands.

A year ago: Chris collected rocks with mermaids.

A year ago: D caused Leon's insanity.

A year ago: Chris had hung that picture on Leon's wall.

A year ago: they clung to one another in the night.

A year ago: oranges had blossomed on Leon's plant.

A year ago: Chris had discovered their secret.

A year ago: Leon lost D's nail, the one he'd always saved.

A year ago: Chris's last birthday and his last present.

A year ago: they waltzed in the moonlight.

A year ago: Leon had found his place in D's menagerie.

A year ago: Chris's costume hadn't come with eyeholes.

A year ago: T-chan had learned the not all humans were his food.

A year ago: Leon had found himself a broken man in an old petshop.

A year ago: Chris had decided sugar was perfect with tea.

A year ago: Thanksgiving meal had been furry and sweet.

A year ago: Leon's cakes had been brought around everyday.

A year ago: D's Christmas tree had been all natural.

A year ago: the rain fell with Leon's tears.

A year ago: Chris's last Christmas present, a dove in a teacup.

A year ago: Leon and D had kissed during the countdown, a second early.

A year ago: D had changed, to give Leon a rest.

A year ago: Leon had found the lines between detective and lover.

A year ago: D had gone his journey, leaving Leon behind.

A year ago: Chris and Pon-chan had voted for Dr. Seuss.

A year ago: Chris held a teacup and sipped sugary water.

A year ago: D never came home and Leon never gave up.

A year ago: Leon made himself a new place, living in the petshop.

A year ago: the stars spelled their names and Chris wept.


	20. Chapter 21

The popsicle was orange

The popsicle was orange. Not just orange flavored, but neon orange in color. Leon hadn't seen one that bright before in his life, though he would be the first to admit that watching popsicles was not one of his pastimes. He rarely even noticed them actually, except as a hint that summer was coming and all the kids were eating them.

But as the slightly melted, flavored stick traced D's lips, Leon had to admit it would have been a struggle to drag his eyes away. He didn't even bother, because he knew D was watching the one he had.


	21. Chapter 22

Title: Public

This was Chris's worst fear. His fingers clutched at the tablecloth, the laces crushed in between his fingers. There was bead of sweat on his heated forehead. He almost reached up to brush it away, but thought better. His feet tapped out an erratic rhythm on the floor, toes pointing in and out as he struggled not to fidget where all the others could see.

He saw them then, approaching where he sat. i_OhnoOhnoOhnoPleaseno_/i Chris shivered, clutching at the tablecloth.

"A toast!" His brother's voice, echoing through the halls. "To my little brother." A laugh, and Chris knew that meant he was drunk. "And his happiness." Leon's arm wrapped around Chris's shoulder, hugging him against his chest and almost stabbing him with his corsage.

"What he means…" D slid over, one hand resting lightly on Leon's shoulder. "… is to thank you for assisting in the planning of this wedding." He smiled, patting Chris's hair gently. "And to wish you good luck in your own." His golden eye winked closed for a moment, the smile still painted across his face.

"Th-thank you." He nodded, still gripping the tablecloth. His eyes glazed over as he stared out in front of him, the eyes of all the guests focused on Chris. "… A toast." He nodded weakly, lifting his glance.

How he hated public conversations.


	22. Chapter 23

Popsicle juice was never as cold as it should have been

1. Popsicle juice was never as cold as it should have been. So sticky and warm on Leon's hand, always running clear. He licked the juice off his hand, grasping for the still full box next to him. 3 flavors left in the box, Leon's hungry eyes cataloguing the bright colors into tastes.

"Cherry." Leon rummaged through the box, pulling out a bright red popsicle. He ripped the wrapping off and leaned back on the bench, relaxing in the sun. Slurping away at the flavored ice, he managed completely to miss D's hungry eyes focused on him from the petshop's window.

2. Colds drove Leon crazy. Sniffling and sneezing for hours on end, he found himself shuffling through his apartment. Everything seemed so much longer and larger when he could barely lift his feet.

After a fit of coughing, Leon decided he needed something to drink. He almost simply went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer. But he remember the fridge was empty and the store was closed.

So instead he stumbled out the door and down the stairs. Somehow he managed to make his way through the empty streets to china town. The petshop was waiting, a light in the window.

When he opened the door, the first and last words Leon heard as he fell to the ground were in a somewhat cold voice, that faded at the end.

"Just in time for tea, detective."


	23. Chapter 24

Title: Remember

Sometimes all he has to do is close his eyes.

And he can remember. The faint hint of animals beneath all the layers of incense. The heat of the tea in his hands. The fur beneath his fingers when a particularly aggressive animal forced its way there. The taste of the sugary sweet upon his tongue. The sound of that voice behind him. The silk of those dresses against the side of his arm. The next customer entering, the ting of a bell as the door opened.

And all Leon does is close his eyes. Because then he can't cry.


	24. Chapter 25

Title: Scent

Leon never smells animals when he walks into D's pet shop. His first assumption is the incense, the thick smoke that clouds his mind. He figures that the smells are just covered up, no second thoughts needed.

But he goes back later, after years and years. Grey hair and wrinkles enhancing the circles under his eyes. The doors open into an empty building, but the scent isn't that of decay.

It smells like it always did, even without the smoke and burning incense. Like a home of something more than mortal. And Leon hates himself for never noticing before then.


	25. Chapter 26

Starlight and moonlight in a streetlight filled sky

Starlight and moonlight in a streetlight filled sky. The pet-shop is dark, save a single lamp lit within the doorway.

There is no one waiting in the open doors, only silence to greet the detective.

He wished he could except more then silence within walls that once had sounded so loud.

There should have been snow outside the window, when Leon thought about it. Something to match his mood.

And had he looked out, a single snowflake might have caught his eye, melting in the air as a tear slid down his cheek.

Loneliness is not confined to one world.

Prequel: Spring is a season of flowers. Of traditional romances and the exchange of roses and walks in the park under moonlight.

Leon isn't sure about trying anymore, growing tired of the girls who always say something isn't 'right' about him.

And they never seem to appreciate the sweets he gets for them, always whining about the calories in chocolate.

So he brings them back to D after every date. Not that means anything, it's just he doesn't want to waste them.

Then he stays for tea, settling on the couch. He's gathering evidence then, not staring at D's mismatched eyes.


	26. Chapter 27

Title: Teacup

It wasn't even a token gift. D had never given Chris an item, never handed him something material. But after the Count had disappeared, and Leon had gone back work, Chris snuck out of school. He wasn't supposed to do that, but there was something waiting for him. No one had told him about it, but he'd heard rumors circulating. The other kids all whispered too loudly.

It was there, on the stairs down to the petshop. A teacup, tiny and white and porcelain. There was a sugar cube in the center of the cup; it dissolved when Chris cried.


	27. Chapter 28

Tea time was simple

Tea time was simple. A cup of tea, always warm, and more pastries then Leon could ever bother to count.

Leon was pretty sure that the Count's tea time was the reason sugar prices were constantly rising. He could almost see entire crops spread across the table.

But after D disappeared, Leon couldn't stop. Every afternoon he would settle outside the station, a cup of tea in one hand and a sweet roll in the other.

It was never enough though, and the light was always too bright and even the hustle of New York was quieter than the petshop.


	28. Chapter 29

Patience is a virtue

Patience is a virtue. Something very important for every detective to have. The ability to wait for each new clue, each new hint to the solution.

Impatience is a virtue. To be unwilling to wait for each clue to come, for each hint. The ability to search for everything without hesitation.

Patience is a vice. Wait too long and the tea gets cold, the trail dies. The petshop is found innocent again.

Impatience is a vice. Work too fast and too hard and no one listens. Chinatown doesn't work the same way as everywhere, you can't force it to obey.


	29. Chapter 30

Soft hands in my hair and warm fingers on my cheek

Soft hands in my hair and warm fingers on my cheek. Silky smooth skin so soft and eyes that are never meek.

Silence echoes through my room, pale walls constricting in on us again. I'm waiting now, for only he can my soul mend.

I swear he sees right through me sometimes, searching for my lonely soul. Looking for everything within me, waiting for it to finally show.

But his picture cracks upon my desk, and then silence breaks. And I remember that he left, and tears are hot upon my face.

And now that he's gone, there's nothing left.


	30. Chapter 31

Time does not fly, for it is no bird

Time does not fly, for it is no bird. It cannot run for it has no legs. Time may only move as a breeze or wave, flowing in infinite. And those who believe it moves too fast, simply cannot wait for it to pass.

They do not see that time cannot wait, but rather that they must. And that is why tea-time is all time, for no time is set. And that is what Leon does not see, for he watches time run by him. He forces time to a speed few can understand.

But my shop does not conform.


	31. Chapter 32

Time is no river

Time is no river. It does not flow in one way, as Leon seems convinced. It doesn't simply branch with every choice. He cannot see the future, but nor can he seem to see the past.

There is no single past, as the detective is sincerely convinced. All pasts converge to form the present. There is an ocean of time, every line mixing to form the present we see.

And the infinite options are always open. But he does not see that as I approach him. And he will not see it until he has forgotten tonight after it occurs.


	32. Chapter 33

Leon was the token cop

1. Leon was the token cop. He might not have been the only one of his kind, but the others had found another use for him. For every unsolved murder case, Leon had his petshop. For every missing person or torn family, Leon had his petshop. No matter how many mistakes they made, Leon had his petshop.

But when he came to work with circled under his eyes and a shuffle in his step, they found out that Leon didn't have his petshop anymore.

That night was filled with the click of computer keys and the crinkle of paper being filed.

2. D's mismatched eyes were his token. Something Leon discovered he could find, even in a crowd. At a murder scene once, years after the petshop had been empty, he swore he saw them. On the victim, on the murderer, on the cop beside him he'd known his whole life. He didn't know why, but suddenly they were everywhere. He screamed.

Jill was tired of the same dialogue every time she visited Leon in the tiny room, tilting her head as she listened to the tired words. Why he only seemed to remember those mismatched eyes, not even the doctors knew.

3. D held no scepter in his hands as he stood over humanity's every flaw; judging. He wore no crown, had no robe of velvet and purple. Few bowed , knew what he was in the legends of old.

The detective that visited every night, shaking his head at D's tea seemed to be missing all subtle hints. So D settled back against his velvet couch, staring over the orbed rim of his teacup. His fingers tightened on the handle, lifting the sugared tea to his lips.

"Y'know the sun is making a circle on your hair?"

"Of course, dear detective."


End file.
